[ March 21st ] Springing into the Season!

[Antonio Fernandez Carriedo]

Spain sighed as he sat at the edge of Pangaea Pond, his feet hanging barefoot in the water in front of him. Another year of school had begun and that marked the end of another vacation. He didn't even get to finish beating Pokemon. Now he was going to be plagued with not doing homework and sleeping sitting through class and eating the ever delicious school lunch.

Suddenly a fish swam up and bit Spain's toe. It didn't hurt because fish have no teeth but it was still surprising. He lifted his foot out of the water and looked at the little fish holding onto his toe for dear life and laughed.


((OOC: If you enjoy badly touching people and are a friend, you are welcome to this thread! Sorry, it's closed to Bad Friends this time around!))

[Francis Bonnefoy]

France, who was currently sitting next to Spain, watched his friend get bit by a fish. The cold air of the night was starting to give him chills, and having his feet in the water didn't help. Of course, this might also be because he was completely naked (aside from the rose in his vital regions - a nation had to be discreet, after all). He could not help the chuckle that escaped his lips, after all, Spain's laughter was contagious.

"You know, you're probably only making it worse if you do that".

[Gilbert Beilschmidt]

Much to his dismay, Prussia sat on the other side of a very naked France, hardly paying attention to the fact that a fish had just started to bite—or rather, suck on Spain's stupidly tanned toe. It was chilly outside tonight, and his red track jacket wasn't keeping him particularly warm, so he merely scowled and pulled it tighter around him.

"Idiot," Prussia breathed, glancing over at them. "Remind me again why we're out here. It's cold, and I," he paused, "I've got shit to do."

[Antonio Fernandez Carriedo]

Spain lifted his leg up and draped it across France's lap so that the foot with the fish on the end was rested nicely on Prussia's. "Come on!" he said, a big smile lighting up his face. He gave his foot a small wiggle and the fish squirmed around stupidly. "I've got a fish on my foot! Where else would you rather be?"

He was cold, yes. It was a lot colder in Boston than it was in Barcelona. However, being the country of PASSION, Spain somehow came with the inborn ability to heat himself on sheer passion, exuberance and paella.

[Francis Bonnefoy]

Ah, to be so close to a friend that they don't mind putting their legs across your naked lap! France didn't even seem to flinch as the fish passed in front of him and really, dangerously close to his rose. Instead, European nation reached back towards a cooler that had ALWAYS been there, and took out a couple of beers.

"And in case that isn't enough, maybe this will be better?"

[Gilbert Beilschmidt]

Wunderbar. Spain's lovely feet were now resting in his lap, and they were wet to boot!

"Get your smelly feet off of me," he said, giving them a bit of a shove but not making fall off his lap entirely. He scowled once more, folding his arms over his chest until France reached back into the cooler and pulled out a few beers. His eyes lit up like it was fucking Christmas Day.

Immediately, he reached for one and said, "Hell yeah, it makes it better."

[Antonio Fernandez Carriedo]

Fortunately for Spain, Prussia had not shoved him that hard and so he did not go tumbling into Pangaea Pond where he would have surely met his watery grave. Instead, he grabbed his lovely cerveza from France, knocking the bottlecap off and thanking his friend. He was tempted to toast to the fish on his toe but said fish would probably prefer being dunked back into the water instead. Then he was tempted to toast to France's rose but got distracted by the comment Prussia made.

"Hey! My feet don't smell!" Spain protested. It could have been a lie. After all, when one plays a lot of sports and wears the same sneakers every time he does so, one's feet are not exactly conditioned to smell like roses. The accented fish certainly did not help the smell either. He took a manly chug of his beer.

[Francis Bonnefoy]

France chuckled. Of course those two brutes would start drinking right away, without doing a proper toast! It is not as if France was one to follow gentlemanly manners (after all, he was naked in a field), but in such important, symbolic moments, even he had to stop and smell the roses (though not the one in his crotch).

So he uncapped his beer and lifted it a little. "So, to a good year?" Simple, and yet elegant. France was proud of himself.

[Gilbert Beilschmidt]

Prussia could give a damn for toasts; it was a blessing itself to have a beer in his hands. Not that he hadn't gone out drinking two nights at his favorite Biergarten before he got onto his plane to Boston. Nonetheless, he was already twisting off the bottle cap, glancing out of the corner of his eye at France, who was holding out his beer for a toast, and Spain, who was chugging away.

"To an awesome year," he corrected France, offering them both a smug smirk before taking a long swig from the bottle. "And your feet still smell, Spain," he added, as an after thought.

[Antonio Fernandez Carriedo]

Spain almost lost some of his beer to France's face when Prussia added his little footnote. Spitting his beer out that was used to toast an 'awesome year' could never be a good sign so luckily he got it down before he choked a little. "Maybe you're smelling your own feet!" he coughed before sticking his feet back int he water. Not because of what Prussia said but because he WANTED to.

But he was over it soon and lifted his bottle toward the other two, clinking it enthusiastically. "I'll take either of those! And I'll also toast to me not pushing Prussia in the water for his comment!"

[Francis Bonnefoy]

France wasted no more time before taking a drink - after all, he needed to warm up a little and since Spain's legs were -regrettably- no longer on his lap, he took it upon himself to have a gulp or three of his beers. "I'll drink to all of those, particularly not throwing Prussia in the water. Not yet, anyway". Was he kidding? Maybe.

[Gilbert Beilschmidt]

OOC: So, I'm really good at dying around here... thanks, college. Uh, sorry for the delay. <3]

"Excuse you, but my feet smell awesome. I wash them every single day—unlike YOU," Prussia scowled at him, already gulping down his beer with vigor. "And you better not push me into the water, you bastards. It's still freezing around here."

[Antonio Fernandez Carriedo]

With that little dare, Spain took it upon himself to finish his beer hastily, place the bottle down next to him, roll up his sleeves and conquer Prussia in the name of Spain by shoving him into the water with absolutely no hesitation or second thought.

Wait. Was he NOT supposed to throw Prussia in?

Oh well.

"¡Lo siento mucho, Prussia!" he called after him, laughing a little to himself. "The water doesn't seem too cold!"